Death
by astheblackrosewilts
Summary: After finishing a mission designed to prove himself loyal to OZ Trowa can’t live with himself anymore. AU Deals with death and suicide nonexplicit Trowa’s POV, Please R&R.


**AN **A bit… ok, very depressing but it was an idea that hit me, even if at the moment I thought of it I only knew the end and had no idea how I was going to get there… This was the result. Please R&R

**Rating**: Erm… PG-13? Deals with death and suicide, only implied.

**Summary**: After finishing a mission designed to prove himself loyal to OZ Trowa can't live with himself anymore. AU Deals with death and suicide (non-explicit) Trowa's POV, Please R&R.

**Disclaimer**: I'm facing the window as I'm typing this, it's pouring down. If I owned Gundam Wing do you honestly think I'd be somewhere with rain?

**Death**

**Trowa's POV**

Death.

That's what it all comes down to in the end.

Death is the pinnacle of our society, try and imagine a world without death. Wars are fought because of death, they bring death, and they are stopped by death, in the end.

But does that justify the deaths of those innocents who are the sacrifices chosen to bring about the end?

Does that justify what I've just done?

Slowly stepping away from the machine, that I just used to bring silence upon this once cheerful, lively town, I turn back to look at it. It towers over me, lifeless itself, yet imposing, somehow showing, in this case, that appearances can be deceptive.

It looks too heavy to move, slow and bumbling, like you could dive out of its way. In reality you'd be lucky if you even saw it coming. The latest stealth technology combined with true skill on the part of the pilot can bring this machine from its death in silence to life in the heat of battle.

There's no one about, silence, just like it was supposed to be. My orders still stand out in my mind. 'No one should alive there when you're done, no one, no man woman or child, is that clear?' Yes. It was clear.

Then out of the silence breaks a cry. It sounds even louder than the all-encompassing silence that had settled. It's the cry of a baby.

Impossible is my first though, but I can still hear it.

Scrabbling in the rubble of what looks vaguely like it was once an apartment block I find the child, skin grey from the rubble and dust, splattered in the blood of the woman almost crushing it, probably its mother, trying to protect it.

Gently I flip the woman over onto her back with my foot, revealing a face with staring eyes and a slit throat. My soldier's eyes analyse it before I've had time to realise what I'm doing, too ragged to be a knife, probably flying shrapnel or glass. Bending slightly I pick up the baby, eying it cautiously. It's still howling but the screams are lessening, being replaced by hoarse breathing.

It's only now that I realise that not all of the red liquid covering it came from its mother.

I could help it, could save it, I know how. Field training is good for something after all.

The words still ring in my mind though, 'no man, woman or child,' I don't have a choice.

Instead I hold it carefully, watching as even the slight sobs slow to shallow breaths and then as, even those, grow sluggish, finally stopping too.

I know nothing about this baby, it could have grown up to be a doctor or scientist, a mother or father, a pimp or prostitute, a murderer or rapist, I can't know, but no matter what it turned out as it would have had a future. A future I took away.

I put it back down, placing it on the woman's chest. I can't say I believe in an afterlife but hopefully it's with its mother now, better there than here. Better _Hell_ than here.

Then something registers, slowly, out of no where, 'no one should be alive when you're done', '_No one_'. A leisurely smile breaks out across my face.

A shot echoes out from the now barren landscape but I don't hear it, after all, they say you never hear the bullet that hits you.

Death is all really, the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end.

It comes to all of us, just some sooner than others.

**Owari**

AN Well? My sister read this and started to babble on about zebras for an hour before attack me for killing the baby but since you can't attack me you have to tell me what you think via review, please tell me what you think.


End file.
